


The One and Only Squad- To the 15ers

by solar317



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-07-11 19:37:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7067293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solar317/pseuds/solar317
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Only the 23 of you, are the 15ers.</p><p>You all know, you will cross paths with each other again.<br/>Sooner than later.</p><p>That’s why you don’t say goodbye.<br/>You say, “see you”.</p><p>See you in the magic.<br/>Sooner than later.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One and Only Squad- To the 15ers

**Author's Note:**

> June 2.  
> USWNT v.s. Japan. Game One.  
> Abby Wambach’s 36th birthday.  
> Happy Birthday to Abby!!!  
> This is also dedicated to All 15ers, to Cap particularly.

Family isn't always blood.  
You couldn’t agree more.   
Human beings are a special kind of creature.   
We've got emotions, we've got deep thoughts, we've got feelings, and so much more stuff that words could not fully express.   


There’s a special bond among you.  
You play for your country, you wear the crest with the stars, together.  
You travel all over the world, together.  
At present or in the past.   
There were some incredible goals you achieved together.  
There was a certain dream you made it come true, together.  
You wouldn’t trade it in for a world.  


Last summer, in Canada, when the final whistle blew, when you jumped on the teammate that you wanted to approach first, when you kneeled down on the turf, you made the huge sigh of relief, you smiled ear to ear, with happy tears in your eyes.  
You did it, together.

Hard to believe that it has been a year.  
A year in which you spent way more time with certain 22 people than anyone else in your life.

Every tournament matters, every championship counts; but if you have to pick, you would say the World Cup trophy is the diamond on the crown, and then the Olympic golds would be the next.

Even harder to believe that it has been so many years.  
Since your debut.  
  
You remember your first camp with the senior national team.  
Standing in the company of giants with the veterans, you barely knew how your tongue could function.  
You were nervous yet excited, when your idols came to talk to you during your first practice.   
Seeing them wear the same jersey, playing alongside with them, you wowed a little bit inside.  
You were congratulated by all the veterans after scoring your first international goal in your first cap.  
They tossed you the ball with all their signatures on it, and you smiled like a kid on Christmas morning.

Getting to know each other has always been your favorite part.  
You sit at the back row on the team bus.  
You are always the first one back to the locker room after warm-up.  
You put on your left sock first and then the right one, and then your left cleat before the right one.  
You tape your ring finger before warm-up while she does it after.  
You put on your headphone while looking at someone who could not dance but dances anyway.  
You prefer to receive crosses from your right side.  
You only take left corners.  
You bite your cuticles when you’re nervous.  
You bring reading lamp to camps.  
You talk about your childhood and family.  
You watch the TV shows you love together on day-off.  
You sneak out for ice-creams after practice.  
You cover your ears when someone at team dinner discusses the following chapter of the book that you haven’t read yet; and then you are teased “why don’t you read faster?!”  
You share the music that could pump you up on game days, or those that help you heal.  
You reveal your scars and your struggles.  
You ask incredible questions in the meal room, and the rest of the team roll their eyes.  
You are surprised by the team with a birthday gift that you accidentally murmured once in your sleep.  
All the little things and the big things.  
On and off the field, with or without people around.  


It's hard to start the first conversation, while it's harder to say goodbye.  
It has been so many years.  
Since the first game you played together.  
Others won’t understand how you could read the game so well together that you could play with eyes closed.  
You wish you all would have played together longer.  
If those appearances for clubs or even college teams would count.  
If there would be no age gaps among you.  
If you could have known each other earlier.  
If time could ever slow down.  
Through the sands of time, there’s nothing much you can do.  
So you put on your smiles, but there may be some tears that you could not help.  
When you watch the player tribute in the middle of the field, shoulder by shoulder.  
When you hear the other one casually talks about her plans after retirement.  
When you catch up with each other after a game that you watch them play from the sideline.

 

Now you are looking at the group draw results for Rio, at different places.  
You are boarding on a plane, to visit your parents and siblings.  
You are watching TV in the living room, with your little girl playing around.  
You are writing your memoir, while laughing at yourself for the “love handles” that you’ve grown.  
After all these years, you could finally tell your family that you’re coming home.  
After all these years, you don’t have to miss your family’s life anymore.  
No more away games, no more time differences.  
No more sprints, no more scrimmages.   
You are lying on your couch, with a baby boy in your belly.  
You are sweating in the gym, rehabbing your ACL.  
You take a short break from the game you have played so long, but you just couldn’t wait to come back.  
Remember when you watched the World Cup group draw in Brazil together?  
Sitting with your pals, having some bets going.   
How would you ever forget? 

Now you're looking at the recently released roster.  
You see your name on the list.  
Or yours once was.   
Now you’re watching the game.  
You once played.  
Now you’re looking around at the crowds.  
They are wearing your jersey.   
Or they were cheering your name.   
Now you’re walking down from the stands, towards your old teammates.  
Remember when all your names were on the same paper of the roster?  
Remember when you played head-up on the plane, when you messed around each other at hotel lobby while waiting for check-in, when you took the bus ride to the stadium?  
Remember when you yelled at someone in practice, and then she yelled back?  
Remember when you were next to each other, either standing in the starting lineup, or sitting on the bench?  
How would you ever forget?

 

Then you realize that something will be different, when it’s the time.   
Although the game might be all you’ve known.  
Although you’re not sure where to go next.  
Although it may feel like you get to take the road alone.

Some of you just start to climb to the peaks in your career.  
Some of you haven’t quite thought about retirement yet.  
Some of you get ready for your another journey that is about to begin.  
Some of you will not lace up your cleats on the professional field anymore.  
You call it your team.  
Or you have to correct yourself to call it your old team, call them your former teammates.

You play in a new position.  
You start with a new right midfielder.  
You are not paired up as the center backs.   
You look at the roommate list, and realize that you will never be pranked in your hotel room by someone again.  
You miss those eyes that you will look for during big games.  
You feel the bus ride is so quiet that you think of someone’s killer sense of humor or loudest laughs.  
You don’t have your partner in crime to do the handshakes before you step on the field; or you high-five the rookies to give them confidence.  
You have to do the pitch jump all by yourself; or you have to watch your buddy do the pitch jump by herself.  
You don’t have someone right behind you when you walk out of the tunnel.  
You don’t have someone to skip the high-pitched part of the national anthem together; or you still skip that part when you hear it played on the stand.  
You lead the huddle; or you watch someone step up to cheer up the team.  
You take over the captain’s armband, but you still call her Cap.  
You follow your new captains on the field.   
You watch someone wear your best friend’s number; or you watch someone wear yours.  
You don’t have your human tree to leap on after you score; or you don’t have the one to catch after she scores.   
You get up early for breakfast, and find someone new to share the newspaper and crosswords.   
You are stuck in line at Chipotle, but fail to text someone to bring her gold card.  
You bring your guitar to the camp, only find it hard to have someone join you in the hallway.  
You naturally call someone’s name without a second thought, and then you are gently reminded that she retired.  
  
You don’t know which one hurts more.  
It just hurts.  
Whether you admit or not.

 

Now you’re on the field, looking around at your teammates, and thinking of your old ones.  
The familiar faces that you gonna miss when you are not playing together day in and day out.   
You put on your pink pre-wrap.  
You have your remarkable game face.   
You roll up your sleeve as always.  
You clench your jaw before you make the save.  
You break the defender’s ankle.  
You do the ball spin before a throw in.   
You argue with the referee when your teammate gets knocked down.  
You run so fast and break through the backline.   
You score from impossible angle.  
You do creative goal celebrations.  
Now there are the New New Kids.  
Remember when the New Kids were kids?  
Remember when you were kids?

 

You are glad that something stay the same.  
Your names are still next to each other on the roommate assignment.  
You two are still bus buddies.  
You attend the press conference together.  
You look at each other and nod before kick-off.   
  
More importantly, you are grateful that memories also stay.  
You remember every time that you heard the bad words, and every time that you proved them wrong, together.  
You remember all the late night texts or phone calls that you made to have each other’s back.  
You remember all the blood, sweat and tears that you wipe away for each other throughout these years.  
You remember all the laughs in the locker room when you messed up someone’s pregame ritual, as well as the champagne you poured on each other to celebrate.  
You remember all those big or small moments that you even could not pick a favorite.

Like, how would you ever forget?

 

No squad on the field will forever remain the same.  
Sometimes you may think of the old days, when no one left.  
Sometimes you may think of the new days, when you will run to some new faces to celebrate the goals.  
You’ve already seen the rookies wearing your old teammates numbers.   
You are witnessing the beginning of something new and beautiful.   
And maybe even before you realize, someone will wear your number and carry on the torch.  
You don’t know how much it will change when you come back.  
You don’t know how many more times you will get to represent your country.  
You don’t know how long it will take you to get used to the past tense, when you still talk about each other like the other one lights up the sky.  
But you do know, the future of the team is so bright, the next chapter of each of you will be well written too.  
You will leave the game better than you found it.

 

No matter how many top players from other countries you have played with in the club teams, when it comes to the so-called comparison, you always think your squad is better.  
The squad in your heart, will always be the same.  
Your one and only.  
Simply the best.  
You stand up for each other.  
You look out for each other.  
You bring out the best performance of each other.  
You may have arguments, you may not fully agree with each other, but by the end of the day, you cherish your relationship as teammates, as friends, as a family.  
You are humble to admit your mistake, you are brave to reach out across the ravine, and you are more than willing to grasp each other’s hand.  
You grow together, you learn together. you excel together.  
Every conversation in the locker room, every laughs on the bus rides, every encouragement during the beep tests, every shoulder to cry on.  
And you still talk about each other like the other one puts the stars in the sky.  
The best teammates that anyone could ask for.  
The best team that anyone could ask for.

People say, well, every successful team looks like this.  
A group of extraordinary soccer players.  
A collection of fantastic personality.  
You smile, look down at the third star above the crest, the closest one to you heart.  
You don’t need to say anything more.

People call you the 15ers.  
The gals that lifted the 2015 FIFA Women's World Cup trophy, together.  
The ultimate goal for the past 16 years, you achieved it together.  
It must be so damn special for all of you, for each of you.  
You don’t need to ask whether the other one will be there, you know they will, and you will do the same for them.  
You don’t even doubt whether the other one cares, you know they always do, and you care as much.  
When you stand together in the starting lineup, when you huddle before you take on the pitch, you’ve got nothing to fear.  
You can rule the world.  
You regard it as one of the best feelings in the world.

 

The Olympics is right around the corner.  
Your first attempt to win a major championship without your mentors, those women that have changed the game of soccer and your lives.  
Your first Olympics playing with your idols.  
Or you haven't played with someone in an Olympic yet, and probably won't have the chance anymore.  
Your second Olympics with your best friends on team.  
You attempt to step on the top podium under the Olympics rings, for the third time.  
Your fourth Olympics which might also be your last.  
You have competed in Olympics before, but this would be your first time without someone playing by your side.  
Or you even rule out your last Olympics attempt.  
You might start or sit on the bench.  
You might wear the captain’s armband.  
You might score and do a tape celebration for one of your teammates.  
You might save some sure goals again.  
You might do a hat-trick again.  
You might share the beers in the locker rooms, or raise the glasses on the beach, celebrating the wins and your pals’ accomplishments.  
You might go to Rio to surprise your old team to watch them play.  
You might commentate all the games that your old team plays in the tournament, and would be very likely to tear up when the team steps on the top podium.

 

Three years later, there will be another World Cup.  
In between, there will be some more medals that you receive without your best friends on team, there will be some more trophies that you hoist with your new captains.  
But only the 23 of you, are the 15ers.  
The one and only.   
This will never change.  
And what makes it even better?  
You all know, you will cross paths with each other again.  
Sooner than later.   
  
That’s why you don’t say goodbye.  
You say, “see you”.  
See you in the magic.  
Sooner than later.


End file.
